Today is one of those quiet, peaceful days. I love these days and much of my life is composed of them. Yes, there are four little ones running around throughout the day but the life of a stay-at-home mom (especially one who appears to be an extrovert but is really an introvert at heart) still borders on that of a hermit. I turned on the light in the bathroom today and smiled when I saw my reflection. The smile wasn't because I thought I looked great, but because I am often the only adult face I see from 8am-5pm and I thought that I deserved a greeting. (Hopefully this is not bordering on psychosis!) There are moments when this is lamentable but they have become increasingly rare as I grow as a mother. I often try to encourage first-time moms who are struggling with the new pace of life at home to just stick with it and not run away from what is happening inside of them because it is so valuable for their own sake.
I've made peace with my hermitage and cherish the rhythm of my days. The sky is grey; outside it is plus 9 degrees (!!!); the only sounds I can hear are running water in the downspout, the ticking of the woodstove and the soft whispers of a child playing by himself. I imagine that chaos will soon break out. In the meantime, youngest baby is asleep in his crib after throwing up an entire bottle; little girl is dozing on a mattress in her parents' bedroom with her hair tied up in preparation for the release of her stomach's contents; bright eyes (Ben) is lying in a chair quietly watching me as he wakes up from his nap and plays with the blocks clutched in his hands; and poor Jacob is battling a fever on the couch. The second stage of the stomach flu that I thought had gone has reared its head. This is officially a rotten, virulent, horrible bug. The blogosphere is alive with it and I have heard tales of it as far away as Texas. However, it is still a quiet day.
There is something that I really love about nursing my sick children: washing the soiled sheets and towels; administering the cold cloths and Tylenol; even holding the bucket as they fight through the pain. (I think a nurse on the battle field must feel a similar sense of accomplishment.) It is during these times that, strangely enough, I realise how much I love being a mother and how much stronger I have become through the demands of these four little ones. I love these children to pieces and can't imagine life without them.
I supply taught in a Junior Kindergarten class on Monday. This is a new thing for me - around 2 days/month. So many people say, "Good, you're finally using your degree." or, "It must be nice to get out." or, "Hoping to get back into the system?". True. I reply, "Actually, the money really helps." But, oh how I miss those four little faces and am so infinitely grateful that money is abundant enough to let me be at home with them the other 29 days of the month. I don't feel wasted as a mother: biding my time until I can go back to work. I actually feel a tremendous amount of accomplishment when I review my day. My degree is at work as I form little minds but, moreover, my faith is at work and growing as I attempt to form little hearts and souls, my own included. One little JK stopped me in the middle of gym to say, "Teacher, I really miss my mom but I can handle it." I think I understand.
4 comments:
You just wrote exactly what I needed to read today. Thanks.
Norah's been sick for 3 days, and now Francis & I have it, too. I know there is great value in what I do to care for my daughter on any given day, particularly when we're both sick and I have a hard time mustering up the energy. But I still have a really hard time when people ask, "So when are you going back to work? It's been over a year now..."
Sure, I haven't been paid for my work this past year, but is what I'm doing at home with Norah really less valuable than my old job that came with a paycheque? I like to think it's even more valuable.
Funny, Jaclyn. I typed up this big, long comment and it is completely gone. Now, I have lost steam. Hannah managed to puke at exactly the moment when I gave Ben the puke bowl. The result: H lost it on the couch, B on the floor and Joe walked through it all!
In reference to your comment: It's hard. I used to rely on telling people that I stayed home because my mom had or because it wouldn't make sense financially to put twins in daycare. But, although both have some truth, neither were True. I have now learned that I only share with those who really want to hear the real reasons. Some people just understand but they tend to be over 50. Dave and i also find it funny when people tell us how expensive it was to take maternity leave and the losses their pensions took. Do they not understand that I am on perpetual, unpaid maternity leave?
Raising the next generation is priceless (yes, corny but true). What can we expect when we have been sold a lie about children - only a gift until they become a liability. In a world where we rip the unwanted kids from our wombs, how can we expect people to understand why we are at home with our kids? I am just so thankful (as I know you are) that our mothers were able to stay at home with us and that for some grace-filled reason their lives got through to us. i also find it hard to talk about this because I don't want others to feel that I am judging them: I'm not, this is just what is asked of me and I'm sharing it with others. I guess misunderstanding is part of the game. This is long: I hope it doesn't disappear again.
p.s. i'm writing this kneeling next to my bed where i am supposedly putting away laundry.
I remember Paul Finn in Ottawa remarking about his wife Helen's staying home: that world is crazy out there, it is only right that one of us should be in it.
Seems very sound to me. Julie
A most awesome Blog with beautiful comments to go with it - it is good to read words of Truth; thank you ladies!!!
family life - the icon of the Trinity; and a great Gift!
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